No-one answered my knocks. I tried again, and again. Knocking so hard that my fist hurt. The resulting sound was both pitiful and quiet. Pri rolled her eyes and pushed the door open.

Evidently one did not need to knock to enter this kind of establishment.

I followed Pri’s lead, entering the large wooden doors behind her.

The front of the Inn was set up as a pub. Some things transcend time and space, and a good pub is one of them. Sure, the decor was old fashioned and rustic, but I have no doubt one could have transported this place into some rural hamlet in England and few would bat an eye.

The floor was wooden but covered in a layer of sawdust. The walls were adorned with various animal skulls and taxidermy as well as rusted swords, helmets, and various other armaments. The whole place was lit by wooden braziers that hung from the ceiling casting an orange glow and long shadows over us and the other patrons.

Yes, the only thing that was jarring about the place were the other patrons and the barkeep.

There were three groups of patrons, each of them sat apart from each-other. Spaced out over the half empty space.

One group all wore similar robes to the man passed out in front of the bar, but they had their hoods up obscuring their faces. I wondered briefly if they belonged to some sort of religious sect. They glanced only briefly in our direction before turning back to each other and speaking in hushed whispers.

The second table had a rather garishly dressed man who sat with two very uncomfortable looking ladies. Their faces were powdered with makeup and they looked overdressed for the pub. They looked like they might not belong in this part of the city even, like they had snuck down here. The man was drinking and laughing loudly, spilling as he poured.

The third group were guardsmen, clear as day. Their uniforms marked them, even partially undressed and unbuckled they still kept on their mail undershirts emblazoned with the mark of the watch.

I nudged Pri to look at the guardsmen and she glanced quickly then turned her gaze away. “Let us pay for our rooms quickly and go, they wont suspect or bother us if we are quick, they are deep in their cups and playing Klank.”

I was about to ask for clarification on what Klank was when I heard the loud sound of coins being thrown against the wooden tables and the CLINK of them entering the mug of one of the guards who roared loudly in fury at being bested by his companion.

Quarters! They are playing quarters! Amazing! I’m a Quarters legend.

I tore my gaze away, knowing that we needed to avoid the attention of that table in particular. The problem was that I loved drinking and drinking games. Perhaps a little too much. One of the few things that an antisocial person like me could do to relate to people in the outside world was get blasted and play Quarters, Darts, Pool or any number of games.

But not today. Not here. It was far too dangerous

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

The barkeep stood behind the counter at the far end of the pub, wrestling with a rather large keg. The man had fiery red hair and an eyepatch. His body was large and full of scars. He nodded gruffly at us as we approached.

“Well get on with it then newcomers, it’s late and we will be shutting down soon.”

He looked like a pirate or some kind of wild norseman out of a comic book.

“What’ll yah have?” He asked again. His voice had a bit more of an edge to it, impatient.

“Two beds, for the night.” Pri answered quickly, eager to get out of the bar.

“Two huh?”

The large man eyes us both down, first Pri and then myself. He clearly was surprised that we, a woman and a man entering his bar late at night, did not want to share a bed. But thankfully he wasn’t the type to pry. He no doubt had seen his share of strange shit go down late at night in his bar.

What happens in the medieval bar, stays in the medieval bar. Hopefully.

“I have a room, the last one. It’ll be 20 silver.”

“Twenty!?” I spluttered, shocked.

That was nearly half the purse we’d taken from the thieves! I had thought that silver was worth a lot! The price seemed astoundingly high. No doubt the man took us for a couple of fools, easy to scam. I looked over at Pri. I could see she too was processing the request. But to my surprise she simply nodded.

“That is very kind sir, we will ta-”

“Hold up,” I put my hand on the counter. “Twenty silver sounds a little high.”

Pri nudged me in the ribs but I ignored her. I wasn’t going to back down on this one. The bushy browed red-head locked eyes with me, seizing me up across the bar. I heard Pri sigh, Clearly she thought this was not worth a fight.

I on the other hand had had enough of being pushed around by this world. I hated being a mark. Being laughed at. Being underestimated. And that is how I had felt since I’d been teleported here, like everyone had been telling me I wasn’t good enough or didn’t know what I was doing. I was falling ass-backwards from one bad situation to the next even worse one. And for some reason this felt like the final straw.

“Ten,” I said. I tried not to blink.

“Fifteen,” he countered, leaning over the counter. His face was now inches from mine. His breath smelled like sardines and rotten cabbage. I tried not to react to it but it was difficult.

“Twelve, and you throw in a beer.”

“Beer?” The man looked at me quizzically.

“Ale,” I corrected. Old timey beer was called “ale”. I knew that from various videogames I had played set in the past.

He nodded. “Deal.”

The giant of a man stuck out a burly hand and we shook on it. I paid him and he gave us instructions to our room, then turned to pour me an “ale”. Pri glared at me.

“Drinking? Now?” She hissed. “We need to rest, and get away from prying eyes.”

I shook my head, not wanting to hear it.

“I understand Pri. But I’ve been chased by orcs, boars, thieves, extorted by guards and transported from my world to a medieval nightmare. I’m going to have a beer. And that’s final. I promise I’ll be right up.”

“As you say, Joseph.” She spun and stomped away.

I sighed, wondering if I should go after her. But right on cue my ale arrived. A huge foaming frothing tankard that was three times the size of any pint back home. It was dark and rich and looked absolutely fucking delicious.

“There yah are fella.”

I looked up at him and for the first time since arriving in Valinor I said the words “Thank you!”. And I meant them.